It was that stench that assaulted her as it permeated underneath the crack of that imposing, steel and silver infused door and leaked into her office like someone baking a batch of cookies. The aroma was very clear in its intention, fear. But there was a magical imprint laced within that potent chaotic fear, she knew it was the warlock she had summoned. How long the scent lingered, she hardly knew, she was too busy dealing with finalizing the last details of her next venture. With the potential of war on the horizon she needed to prepare. At least for now, she was dressed to kill with a strappy black number, wearing that dress that looked like it was poured on her sensual form. Her heels very well look like they could be weapons with their silver adorned spikes.

There was one bothersome little incident on her mind of late, burning within the recesses of her calculating mind. Where had that lamp in her office suddenly vanished to? Such a grave insult was like a slap across the cheek of the malicious serpentine that was Risque. She could hardly let that stand, to allow someone to steal from her and get away with it. It was an act of war and she would be happy to oblige. Oh, how she would crush them betwixt her very fingertips, letting them crumble to waste as she did to anyone that dares to get in her way. But the real question that it burned down to was who was it? Who was the enemy that dare to blatantly oppose her in this fashion? Something very near hysteria overcame her. That was why she had summoned that warlock. The very warlock that probably stood, nerve-wracked just outside her door. He was early, too early, how terribly eager of him. So, she was content to allow him to linger just outside of her office while she worked until she was ready for him and not the other way around. How that fear increased as he waited, it was amusing how dread itself could torture a man. She would be lying if she didn't have a little hand in the matter. That ability to inflict torment just barely caressed his worried brow, for the hell of it. Just because she could, just because it amused her for a fleeting, fading moment in time.

However, it was a voice, familiar and yet, unanticipated that leaked, muffled through her silver infused door. That exceptional hearing snatching Darcy's heavily accented words. She knew it distinctly, more intimately than any other voice within her fortress of sin. Her mind lingered upon him for a touch, thinking about that mortifying gaping wound that ravaged his neck. How close to the true death he had been, should that acid continue to eat away at his neck, all the way through. That vile wound that Tetra-doll had inflicted. Oh, she had made Tetra-doll suffer for that, for the death of not one cat but two and the disobedience he showed Darcy, like he had a chance at escape. Why he thought time would change, that he would finally taste freedom was a child's pathetic dream. She was surrounded by CHILDREN. Her own progeny were like hormone raged teens, oozing with disobedience and entitlement.

There was a sudden surge of fear that permeated the outside of her door, that snapped her out of her vacillating thoughts. He had better not kill her warlock before she was finished with him. It would be an inconvenience to wait for the backup witch to show up and this one was known for being eager. She was fond that, for this purpose alone. That and the man could keep his mouth shut.

There was suddenly sharp knock upon her door, she knew it wasn't that pitiful excuse for a warlock, it had to be Darcy. He was not a weak-willed pansy, he acted when others did not. She bided her time just a second longer because she could, before uttering the singular word. "Enter." It was like she tasted those letters upon her tongue before giving them up.

When his familiar form entered her office, closing the door behind him, letting the warlock to marinate in his own seasoning for a little while longer. Her eyes seem to devour his form, starting at the neck as if curious to see what had become of that wound. But it was artfully concealed by that collar of his shirt and the leather jacket that he wore. But she hardly had time to consider his attire when her eyes drift to that curious box dangling from his fingertips. Now he had her full attention. The sweet familiar greeting sliding from his lips as he lowered his head in submission, feeding into her every whim before she even asked.

She viewed him like a hungry cat does a mouse. "You look better than the last time I saw you. I was beginning to wonder if Tetradore had gotten the best of you." Was all she said, something that seemed like a compliment and then it was laced with that barbed sentiment. How disappointed she would have been if he had succumbed to her pet. Tetra-doll was at his weakest now without proper training and she couldn't help but wonder if pit against one another who would prevail. Vampire or beast. She watches with those apathetic, considering eyes as he slides toward her desk with that confidence he always exuded. He knew her best out of her menagerie and after all the time still stood. That box he placed piqued her attention, she would need to examine that wound later. The box seemed to shudder upon her desk, there was something moving within that very box. Now she truly was interested. Those pale, hypnotic eyes slide across him then before he gestured toward that gift upon the mahogany desk. She used the sharp point of her velvet-lined silver talon that embellished her finger, using it like a scalpel blade to slice the velvet ribbon effortlessly. She placed hands on either side of the lid of that box before removing it. He had certainly put effort into that packaging.

His voice slid out over her when she peered into that box to see what dwelled inside of it with a curious but indifferent feeling washing over her. A soft whine escaping that box. The other growled which sounded more like the hinge of a squeaky door. She had hardly anticipated it but took no time in revealing Darcy's gift.

Risque reached into that box wordlessly, before plucking one by the scruff at the back of their necks. The growly one that dared to even show her his teeth. The other one was more submissive than the other, their adorable little faces peering at her wide-eyed. She examined them both so thoroughly, her eyes lingering on the cute little eyebrows and fascinating 3-dimensional appearing markings along their tiny bodies. They felt like velvet beneath her touch, perhaps even softer. She placed the submissive one down before bringing the feistier one to her. Using that controlling power to wash over him first, as she ran her fingers through its luxurious coat. She could feel that connection to her powers silently work their control over those tiny little bodies as if letting them know they were hers now. Their eyes seemed to take on that dazed look for a moment as though they were unable to move, entirely transfixed by her persuading ties.

The blue-black haired woman placed the other adorable feline on her desk, the two began to explore, pawing at a pen at her desk before playfighting. She stood so abruptly, the feline queen eyeing her mouse with a hungry look flooding her pale blue azure sadistic gaze. She didn't need to look at the money to know it was there, every last promised penny of her devoted worshipper. Perhaps it was time to reward him... but with what? She wasn't entirely sure just yet.

"You very rarely ever disappoint me." It would seem after all the absolute failures she was working with, she realized how she valued that, at least in that very fleeting moment. He had seemed entirely prepared for her with gifts and his attire, as though he put attention to every last detail before this unplanned meeting. How many times had she not noticed that effort? Probably more than she could count. But tonight, the devil woman noticed him.

"The others should learn from you." She uttered almost fondly, whilst she moved with a sinuous, steady gait toward her loyal Darcy. Each movement was smooth as liquid as she stalked toward her intended prey, her pale hypnotic eyes seemed almost hungry then. She circled him as if entirely assessing him in a way to see if he was adequate. All before she slithered up to his side where she knew that wound once was. There was no space between them, no air that could breathe as she pressed the sultry curve of her body attentive to him then.

"Hmm." She allowed her hands peel back the fabric of his shirt and jacket in a languorous fashion so she could see that marred skin, like it too was a gift for her to explore. She pressed his head to the side, to expose that mutilated neck to her. What a mangled mess it had been. She trailed her cool, probing fingertips over it, the whispering touch of her velvet lined silver talon nearly danced across his skin, she hardly cared if she angled his neck in a way that was uncomfortable in that moment whilst she put him on display for her eyes to ravage. "Interesting." She cooed to herself after her initial observation. He should have been 100% healed right now but he wasn't. Tetra-doll's acidic saliva had proven to be far more potent than she thought was possible, perhaps he did get stronger within her absence. She needed to see how much so. "Did you not have enough to eat?" She asked in a voice that almost seemed like she cared, but it was actually a morbid fascination that coaxed the question from her crimson lips. "Are you broken, mon saccharine?" She nearly questioned, her voice just above a whisper.

She found his wound entertaining in a way, scars she usually found nothing but hideous. But in this very second, she nearly wanted nothing more to taste it beneath her tongue.

That was when she heard the soft cries of the desperate, fearful man outside. "Uhhhhh. Helllo?? Anybody? I ch-ch-charge by the hour you know." He whimpered as though the very walls were closing in on him and perhaps to his own pitiful mind it was. She huffed out an irritated noise, not appreciating being interrupted. Agitation flooded her in that moment, like a feline who had the wind blow its fur in a dissatisfactory way.

"We had a breach. When you were, out of commission." She informs Darcy, before pulling away from him so suddenly, fickle as always. "My lamp was stolen without a trace, right under my nose." Right when the femme fatale was working away upon a shipment of goods she ordered.

"Not a single trace of the perpetrator. We need to enhance security, until I can find out who, so I can gut them and decorate my office with their entrails and feed the rest to my cats." Violence rose within her eyes, her emotions ever volatilely shifting into the devil's rage.

"Enter warlock. You may fulfill your use now." Her voice is that luxurious sound of hot honey dripped upon a naked body full of need.

She ordered sharply and irate, evidently in the woman's demeanor, she was in no mood for his insignificance. After all, warlocks and witches were nothing more than glorified humans with parlor tricks. Only time would prove this one was more useful than the rest. For his own sake. One thing for certain was that he was, very repulsively sweaty.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on